Because I Do Not Exist.

I found this in my draft box. It is from 2014, and having been written so long ago, I had forgotten it completely. Reading it amused me. I hope you like somethig from the brain of 2014 Larissa.

They sent me because I do not exist.

I do not lurk in the shadows. I am not the wall flower. I am not quiet, or moody. If I were, I would exist to you. I would be eerie and mysterious. I would intrigue. My power lies not in a proclaimed invisibility. Nor in popularity. I am the middle ground–the best place to not exist.

Instead, I am hidden in the broad smile, behind the bright eyes and underneath the cheery small talk. I am the average. Therefore, you do not remember my existence. It is nothing remarkable. I am nothing remarkable.

Yet.

Tomorrow, though, will change everything. They have chosen me, and they have chosen me precisely because I do not exist.

Tomorrow I will infiltrate your mind. I will unearth all your secrets. I will disturb your soul. I will paralyze your body.

I will reveal myself. I will jump from behind eyes. I will expose myself in the small talk. I will not be the average. You will remember my existence. I am remarkable.

Yet what am I? Oh, you cannot name me. I do not yet exist.

Highlighting Daily Faithfulness

My mother had an older brother who died when I was a toddler. Growing up, my parents would sometimes talk about Uncle Vicente. I knew about the accident in which he died.

I also knew from them how he lived. How much he loved music and to play his guitar. How hard-working he was. How he liked to tease. How infectious his joy was. I also knew he was almost blind.

Surgery didn’t help. He wore thick glasses, but still only managed to barely see. Uncle Vicente and his brother, my Uncle Daniel, took over a health food store the same year I was born. They sold natural products and fresh whole wheat bread baked daily. During that time, they stayed with my parents who lived several blocks away from the store. One evening, Uncle Vicente walked from the store to the house to tell my mom he’d be home late because he was waiting for the bread to finish baking. She was five months pregnant and home alone. He didn’t want her to worry.

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Why You Should Unfollow Me

If you follow me on Instagram you might know by now that I’m big on “intentionality”. Especially when it comes to social media.

Social media is great. It can bring people closer, inspire, foster community, teach, entertain…but we know the opposite is also true. It can alienate, discourage, break friendships, degrade. We know this is true because we’ve likely all felt it.

But good news! This is where your free will comes in. You have control.

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Fanny Price And Why We Dislike Her

*thoughts after reading the book; in no way academically informed. 

I just finished Mansfield Park this week, thus finally finishing all of Austen’s main novels. It only took me nine years, but we got there.

Mansfield Park is pretty notorious for being long, slow, and its heroine, Fanny Price, incredibly lackluster to say the least. I started this book five years ago, but couldn’t for the life of me continue. I watched the movie adaption (because Jonny Lee Miller), but I felt comfortable in agreeing with the general dislike towards this insufferable book.

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